𝗠𝗼̈𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗖𝗿𝘂̈𝗲 𝗜𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 🤍

🧡 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗗𝗼 𝗪𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀? {𝗩𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗹}

Disclaimer: Obviously some plot points will be changed like Y/N in this imagine will be replacing Sharise.

This covers Vince's daughters death in '95.

Also, this is in no way to disrespect Sharise or Vince because my heart goes out to them for what happened to Skylar.

Anyways, on with the Imagine!

•🔥•

1995

The hospital was the only place Vince and I have been for the last god knows how many days. Both of us refused to leave Skylars side- the doctors had told us countless times too at least go home for a few hours, even just to collect fresh clothes.

But neither of us dared move- Nikki had been collecting both mine and Vinces clothes from our house for the last few weeks.

Despite the current differences the band were experiencing we... well, I still spoke to each of them. Nikki and I were the closest of friends so nomatter what happened with Mötley Crüe we were still there for eachother.

I needed Nikki at this moment, so did Vince although he wasn't jumping to admit it. We both just needed someone just as much as we needed eachother, our daughter was dying so right now so our friends are everything.

All 3 of the boys had put aside their differences and opinions- and the reason the band let Vince go was at the moment brushed under the carpet.

Okay, they ever really spoke to eachother unless I'd invite them over to the house or they came to check on Skylar themselves then they had no other choice than to talk- as awkward as it was I knew Vince appreciated them being there, damn, I know I did.

Vince and I hadn't spoken a word to eachother for 2 days. Not because we'd fallen out or argued it was just because what could we possibly say to make this any better? We were both feeling the same immeasurable heartbreak, and whatever we could say we'd already said a hundred times.

But although there was no verbal communication we found non verbal alternatives. We'd both just stand or sit with our arms wrapped around eachother listening to our heartbeats. We often decided to sleep in the same chair with Vince sitting on it while I placed myself in his lap resting my head in the crook of his neck- his arms securely around my waist.

Skylar went from being conscious most of the time to now only coming round for maybe once a day- twice if we were lucky. The surgeries were taking their toll, the medication.... everything- it was all too much for her 4 year old body to handle.

We'd been told a week ago that she'd never go home, she'd die here.

Of course it was natural when she was conscious she always asked when she'd be going home and we'd always remained optimistic until that moment when we couldn't ignore it anymore.

We hadn't told her, we couldn't tell her that she'd never get see her room again, never get to play hide and seek with her daddy again, never get to help me cook breakfast in the mornings. All we could say was 'You'll be home soon princess'.

It was tearing us apart, knowing our little girl had less than days left to live. The entire situation was hurting Vince more than he let on, I think in his head he thought he has to be the strong one. He was a man. He had to be strong for me- but he didn't, this was our child and I tried reminding him of that.